Chapter 7
As the green fire burned around her and she felt herself be transported to another grate, Hermione wondered how she would break the news of her and Ron’s breakup to her office. Was it okay to cry or would that ruin the professional relationship they had and destroy their working dynamics? Should she even tell them? Were they close enough to be having those sorts of conversations?
Before she could spiral any further, the hallway of the Ministry of Magic came into her view, and she stepped out of the fireplace. Like clockwork, her assistant, a sweet, blonde witch called Corinne, strode over to her and handed her a coffee. Hermione smiled gratefully at the witch and the two moved to the lifts, huddling into one with an elderly wizard and middle-aged woman with great streaks in her dark hair.
“How was the surprise with Ron?” Corinne whispered, grinning.
“Eventful,” Hermione replied, schooling her face into the most neutral expression she could.
“Oooh, eventful? Sounds like he wasn’t able to resist! – Hermione?” Corinne’s voice trailed off as Hermione pressed her lips in a thin line and shook her head vigorously. “Did everything not go okay?”
Corinne watched Hermione’s gaze land on the other two people in the lift. “I’ll tell you when we’re in the office.” Corinne nodded; both girls fell silent, and the lift rode upwards.
Once the lift doors opened to their floor, Corinne grabbed Hermione’s wrist and hurried her over to the dark oak door with a gold plaque reading ‘Hermione J Granger, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures’ on the front.
Hermione slid the tip of her wand along the seam of the door, and it swung open, allowing both witches to walk in. Hermione let her navy work bag drop onto her desk and she sunk into her chair, sighing.
Corinne shuffled over with a chair of her own, settling down beside the other woman. “What happened over the weekend? Did Ron not like the surprise?”
Taking a long drag from her cup, Hermione shook her head. “I don’t know if he liked it or not. He was busy dragging his precious side piece down the hallway to our bed to notice the dinner I prepared,” Hermione spat bitterly.
Corinne gasped, her elbow knocking a stack of research papers to the floor. “Oh fuck,” she groaned, watching the papers fly around them. “He has a side piece?”
Hermione nodded grimly. “Yes. None other than Helena Dunn.”
Corinne had a murderous look in her eyes. “How dare he,” she seethed. “Helena Dunn over you?! Is his brain fucking broken or something? Sorry,” she added hastily when Hermione gave her a stern look for the expletive.
“I spent the weekend at Harry and Parvati’s,” Hermione flicked her wand and the fallen papers around the two witches magically gathered themselves and landed in a neatly stacked pile back on the desk. “He hasn’t even realised I’m gone.”
Corinne scoffed. “Yeah, because he’s too busy chasing after his precious Helena.”
“It’s no matter,” Hermione said. “I’m done with him. I’ve got far more important things to worry about than whether or not my ex-boyfriend is fucking another woman. What did we find about the lycanthropy potion?”
Corinne hastily stood up, flicking her wand at a whiteboard in the corner of the office. The scribbles left on it from last week magically erased away, and new writing began to take its place. “Not much. I’ve got a list of all the ingredients and how they’re prepared to make the potion, but it’s such a lengthy process that processing it in large batches can’t be done by the St Mungo’s team.
But Hermione,” Corinne turned around and fixed the other witch with a firm stare. “I may be your assistant, but I’m also your friend. I’m always here if you need anything. Ron is an idiot for not seeing what was right in front of him.”
Hermione nodded, blinking hard to prevent herself from crying. She had spent so long surviving on her own, at Hogwarts, while she and Harry were on the run, even when she was climbing ranks at the Ministry, that she had convinced herself that she was alone. Without parents to support her, she had sworn she didn’t need anyone, even if she loved Ron, even if she spent a weekend a month at Harry and Parvati’s house, even when she had a loyal and hardworking team at the Ministry.
“Thank you, Corinne,” she forced out, her voice thick with emotion. “It means a lot.”
Corinne nodded sympathetically, rubbing the older witch’s shoulder. “If you ever want a bit of time away from Harry and Parvati, my home is always open to you. God knows the two can’t keep their hands of each other, it’s almost disgusting.” She faked a retch, and Hermione giggled.
“Don’t let them catch you saying that.” Then the brunette gathered her curly locks in both hands and began arranging them into a bun, keeping them in place with a pencil she had grabbed off the desk. “Right, so we need to expand the labs for potion making.”
“Perhaps we can outreach to larger potioneering agencies,” Corinne suggested, her brows furrowed.
Hermione nodded. “Do we know of any trustworthy services? Ideally ones who don’t think werewolves are the scum of the earth?”
Corinne shook her head. “Not off the top of my head.”
“Right.” Hermione pointed her wand at the array of books lining the wall of her office and a large map of the United Kingdom flew out and was pinned to the backboard opposite. “Our first order of business is to find an agency who can produce the Wolfsbane potion in sufficient quantities to create a nationwide supply. Then we’ll look into funding for the ingredients and services. Who gives a fuck about stupid Ron Weasley? We’ve got a Lycanthropy potion program to make.”
Corinne gave Hermione a sly grin. The hardworking, determined witch was back. “Let’s do this.”